


Snowstorm

by sipuli



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But mostly just hurt, Evil Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Oneshot, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), exile arc, forced drugging, okay maybe Some Comfort, they're protective in their own way, this is a sad one, tommy doesn't appreciate it, unless...?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29463687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sipuli/pseuds/sipuli
Summary: Phil and Techno keep telling Tommy that he's safe, that Dream won't find him here, in the middle of snow and ice far away from everything.Tommy knows it's a lie. Sooner or later Dream will track him down and drag him back.But maybe if he goes back voluntarily, it won't be so bad.Or: how to keep someone safe when he'd rather run back to his abuser
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 284





	Snowstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little snippet of an AU I will never write. It's been a while since any of this was relevant in canon and "traumatized Tommy living with Techno and Phil" is kinda overdone at this point but I liked these two scenes enough to actually write them out. This is an amalgamation of canon, my imagination, and two fics that I'm lowkey obsessed with. Enjoy the angst.

The snowstorm rages on the tundra. Tommy can barely see what’s in front of him through the flurry of swirling snow that the wind blows into his vision before it disappears in the dark again. He squints his eyes and tries to see through it, but he can't even tell where the ground changes to the sky in the distant horizon. There’s more snow than actual air around him. And what isn’t white is pitch black in the moonless and starless night.

It's good, he tells himself, the darkness and the snow. It will cover his tracks behind him. No one will ever be able to follow him. He's free to go wherever he wants.

Well, not exactly. He's free to go to one very specific place. But that's also the one place he _wants_ to go to, so it doesn't really matter. 

He wants to go there. He wants to go back. He wants to.

Phil and Techno tried so hard to convince him that he didn't. They repeated the same things over and over again like they were trying to brainwash him. _Dream is not going to find you here_ , they said, _you're safe. You need to trust us. We won't let anyone hurt you ever again. You're safe here. This is where you belong. You only want to go back there because you haven't healed enough to understand that you don't need to do what Dream wants._

Instead, they wanted Tommy to do what _they_ wanted. 

Well, they're not here to tell him what to do now, are they? Hah! Sucks to be them. Tommy couldn't care less if they both froze to death trying to find him in the storm. That would serve them right. They can spend their time running around in the woods shouting his name and meanwhile Tommy will go back to the only person who actually cares about him. And then everything will be fine again and Dream will be happy.

Well. Maybe not right away. Dream has a good reason to be angry, after all. Tommy ran away from him, he was a bad friend. He can't really blame Dream if he doesn't welcome him back with open arms.

But if he doesn't go back... It's going to be worse. Much, much worse.

Phil and Techno told him that Dream wouldn't find their house, or at least wouldn't find out that Tommy was hiding in there, living with them. That was a lie, obviously. Dream always finds out. Tommy didn't say it out loud but he had a feeling that they knew. Knew what he was afraid of. Knew what he has nightmares about.

He's not... scared of Dream. Not really. He's scared of some of the things that Dream does, the way he lashes out when Tommy doesn't act the way he wants him to. He's scared of his lessons.

_I don't want to do this, Tommy, but you need to learn your lesson._

But Dream is also his friend, the only one who bothers to come and keep him company, the only one who showed up to his party. The only one who still cares. Everyone else is gone, they have all forgotten about him. Dream is everything he has.

He can't lose Dream, too.

He isn't scared of Dream ( _of_ _course he isn't, he's not scared, he's NOT - he isn't a little baby for fuck's sake_ ) but he is a little bit scared of what would happen if Dream found him hiding in a little cottage in the middle of nowhere with Techno and Phil. If Dream had to listen to their lies about how Tommy isn't his friend. If he had to fight them and drag Tommy back to Logstedshire kicking and screaming.

What kind of lesson would be waiting for him there?

He's been thinking about it a lot, these past few days. And to his understanding, he only has two options.

Option one. Stay away from Dream, one way or another. Avoid him, avoid pain. Stay with Phil and Techno. Or leave and go somewhere else. Further away from Dream, from the beach and the exile and the lessons.

Option one is useless. It's doomed to fail. He can't run forever and he knows it. Sooner or later Dream will find him, and the longer it takes, the worse it will be.

Which brings things to option two. Surrender. Go back willingly. Show him that you still want to be his friend. That you never meant to abandon him like that.

He will be angry, Tommy knows it. There's going to be a lesson. He can't avoid it, he'll just have to take it and hope it's not too bad.

No matter how bad it will be, it's still a thousand times better than the other option.

So that's it. That's why Tommy is trudging in a snowstorm in the middle of the night. He knows Phil and Techno would never let him leave, so he had to sneak out at night. And the tundra is the worst possible place for a runaway, it's impossible to go anywhere without leaving a trail of footprints in the snow, so he had to wait until it was snowing. He's been waiting for days, staring at the clear sky through the window and praying for snow.

The moment he saw the first snowflakes falling on the windowsill, he packed his little bag and prepared to leave as soon as everyone in the house was asleep.

He wasn't expecting this much snow, though. He just wanted a little flurry, big enough to make sure he wouldn't be found. But instead of kindly tossing a few snowflakes on the ground, the clouds seem to have decided that it's time to show everyone what they're made of. Let's give the tiny humans a taste of what we can do! Give them a show they will never forget!

Tommy wouldn't mind the weather if he was inside a warm living room, roasting marshmallows on a fireplace and drinking hot chocolate and watching the storm through the window. There's nothing wrong with storms as long as they stay outside the house. But now there is no house, there is no fireplace or marshmallows or hot chocolate, and Tommy is starting to realize that he should have arrived at the wooded area already.

Why didn't he bring a compass? He knows Phil has one and he could bet Techno does, too. He could have taken one from the house. But he didn't, and he's clearly been drifting from the path he was supposed to take in the storm.

Should he turn back? What if his tracks are already covered by the snow? He will never find the house in this awful weather. He could be standing a few meters away from it without seeing anything.

Should he keep going? What if he never finds the woods? What if he's been going around in circles? 

He can't stay here, that's for sure. Getting lost on the tundra and freezing to death isn't on his bucket list. He makes his decision and keeps walking.

The storm doesn't care about the boy staggering forward in the snow. It doesn't want to hurt him, it doesn't want him to die. But it doesn't want to save him either. It spares as much thought to the little human as humans might to the bugs they crush under their feet while walking, without even noticing. The storm simply doesn't care.

It doesn't care when the boy stumbles for the sixth time and almost falls.

It doesn't care when he wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep his body warm, trying to stop the warmth of life from escaping into the raging cold and dark around him.

It doesn't care when his legs finally give in and he collapses on the ground.

 _I'll rest for just a minute_ , Tommy thinks. _It's so cold and I'm too tired. I'll lay down for a while and then keep going._

He closes his eyes.

The storm rages on the desolate tundra.

* * *

If Philza Minecraft believed in fate or destiny or any kind of a God, he would say that Tommy is under the protection of some kind of higher power.

Phil shouldn't be up at this time but he's stressed about.. well, he has been stressed about everything lately. And Techno was snoring and the damned storm was banging a tree branch against the roof and he couldn't sleep in all that noise. And he was thirsty. So he got up and climbed down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

He leans against the counter and stares out through the window. The night is pitch black.

He takes a sip from his glass and sighs. He doesn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but he's way more tired than he feels comfortable with. Taking care of Tommy is tiring. He is just as Phil remembered him from his childhood - loud, obnoxious, annoying. None of those things are a problem to him, they are the reasons he cared about Tommy. They were what made Tommy… Tommy. But there is more, a lot more, things that Phil understands and things he thinks he understands and things he knows he does not understand.

He’s not a therapist. He isn’t qualified to help a traumatized kid who, on the worst days, doesn’t even want to be helped. He doesn’t know what to do with Tommy’s sudden fits of rage or the way he cowers in fear and scampers away whenever someone raises their voice or moves too quickly, he doesn’t know what to do when he finds days worth of stolen junk from the one chest they have given Tommy to keep his stuff in. He tries his best to give Tommy the fatherly love he never had when it was needed the most, he tries so hard to forgive and to forget and to ignore his bad habits and understand what he had been through.

But it would be a lot easier if Tommy gave back even the tiniest amount of… He doesn’t even know what he wants. Cooperation? Some kind of a sign that Phil is doing good? Hell, how about a simple “thanks, dad”?

Sometimes Tommy hugs him back (most of the time he doesn’t). Sometimes he lets Phil come into his room (most of the time he tells him to fuck off). Sometimes he looks at his father with something else than fear or anger or apathy.

That’s all he has. Tiny breadcrumbs of progress.

The storm shows no signs of subsiding. Phil puts down his glass, about to go back to the bedroom, when he notices something.

There are marks on the snow. 

What the hell? There shouldn’t be anything moving close by. Phil steps closer, pressing his forehead against the window.

Footsteps. Starting from the stairs and disappearing into the storm.

A horrifying lump of cold fear drops into his stomach. He rushes to the hatch that leads to the lower floors. Tommy wanted the basement room, he wanted to be surrounded by the earth from all sides.

8 seconds later Phil slams the door of Tommy’s room open and sees the empty bed.

2 and a half minutes later Phil rushes out of the house, hastily dressed in warm winter clothes.

5 minutes later he has disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

If Philza Minecraft believed in fate or destiny or any kind of a God, he would say that Tommy is under the protection of some kind of higher power. But Phil doesn’t believe in a higher power. Philza Minecraft believes in Philza Minecraft, and tonight he has to save his son from death or something worse.

It’s a miracle that the footprints are still clear enough to follow, even in this storm. Tommy can’t have been gone for long. Phil spurs Carl into an even faster gallop and keeps his eyes on the ground. Follow the marks. Follow the marks.

He still almost misses the small, unmoving lump on the ground. It looks like just a snow-covered rock at first. But then Phil notices the tiniest movement, a sign of life. Tommy is still breathing.

He jumps off from the horse and practically falls to his knees next to Tommy. He turns him around, slowly and carefully, and gently shakes his shoulders.

“Tommy? Can you hear me?”

Tommy’s eyes slowly open, just a little, and his mouth forms a word even though no sound comes out. Phil can see the name on his lips and it shatters his heart.

“No. Not Dream. It’s me, Phil. We’re going back home.”

Tommy doesn’t resist when Phil picks him up and helps him get on Carl’s back, but it might just be because he’s too tired and cold. Phil isn’t even completely sure if Tommy recognizes him or understands what’s happening. The boy is half asleep, his head drooping limply the whole way back home. Phil sits behind him and keeps his left arm wrapped around him to keep him from falling off the horse.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Eight days. Tommy has been a prisoner in this goddamn house for eight days. He's going to go nuts if he doesn't figure something out soon. 

Ever since the night he tried to go back, he hasn't had a single moment of solitude. Either Techno or Phil is always with him. They sit with him in this stupid room, they walk next to him like guards if he goes outside, they even take turns sleeping in this room - every night they move the spare bed on top of the trapdoor that leads to the lower floor, to freedom. 

Oh, that too. Tommy had to leave the nice, comfy nest he had built for himself in the basement. Now he sleeps on the upper floor. In a room that's fucking impossible to sneak out at night, because the prison guards take turns sleeping on top of the only exit. 

He's stuck. He's really, truly stuck. 

If Phil and Techno think this is the way to make him think they are his friends and Dream is not, they are wrong. At least Dream let him go wherever he wanted, as long as he stayed in the beach area. At least Dream didn't spend his every waking moment guarding him, following him around. 

Not that he moves around much these days. He can go outside if he wants, as long as someone is with him, but why bother? He'd never manage to escape anyway. Every time he steps outside of the house he's overwhelmed with false hope of freedom, and going back in feels worse and worse every day. He'd rather save himself from the needless torment and just stay in this room. 

It gets so incredibly boring though. Tommy has never been one to just sit still and watch the snow slowly accumulating outside the window _which is too small to crawl through_ , he needs things to do. He needs entertainment. 

So he reads, even though he has never been the biggest fan of books. He talks with Techno and Phil, even though he doesn't want anything to do with them. He spends hours looking out the window and counting the snowflakes that float by. Of course _now_ there's a nice moderate amount of snow. Would have been nice to have this kind of weather a week ago when he tried to run. Tommy stares at the ceiling, lying on the bed in the same position as he’s been for God knows how many hours.

It’s a lot more comfortable bed than the one he had in Logstedshire, but it doesn’t make him hate it any less.

A sudden noise makes Tommy jump. He hates it when that happens, it makes him feel like a dumb scaredy-cat, but he can't help it, he can't help but feel like every noise is caused by something that's coming for him. He looks at Phil and realizes it was just him closing the book he was reading. Tommy glares at him and looks outside again, he isn't in the mood to talk with his dad. He only speaks to them on the worst days, when he feels like he's going to lose the last remnants of his sanity if he doesn't get to talk with _someone_. 

Phil notices that Tommy was looking at him though, and he smiles. "It gets boring as hell in here," he says as if he was half as bored as Tommy. He's not the one who's trapped like an animal. "Would you like to go for a walk?" 

The fucker's pretending to care. Tommy doesn't reply. 

"Seriously, it's not healthy for you to spend all your time inside. We could go check the turtle farm. It'll make you feel better."

"I don't care about your fucking dumb turtles."

Phil sighs. "You don't have to like living here with us, but you could at least try to be a little bit more polite."

"Oh, sorry." Tommy is packing as much bitterness and hate into his voice as possible. He's getting pretty good at it. "Thank you for the kind offer, but I don't care about your fucking dumb turtles."

Phil is about to reply, probably with something so fucking fatherly and understanding that would just make Tommy's blood boil even more, but they're interrupted by sounds coming from downstairs. The door opens and closes, someone's footsteps hurry across the room and then they can see the trapdoor fling open as Techno's head sticks through it. 

"Phil," he says, out of breath and with an unusually dark expression on his face. "It's happening. What we discussed a few days ago. He's coming here."

Phil stands up, instantly changing into a serious mood. "How long do we have?" 

"Not long. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen at most. We wouldn't even have that much if I hadn't been hunting further west than usual."

"Good thing you were," Phil says. "Get the potion."

Techno nods and drops back down. Tommy looks at Phil, then at the trapdoor, then back at Phil. "What the fuck? Who's coming? What potion?" 

Phil kneels down to get on Tommy's level and sighs. His face looks like he really, really doesn't like what he's going to have to say. "Tommy, I'm not going to lie to you. Dream is coming here and we need to hide you."

_Dream?_

_Dream is coming?_

Tommy can feel a tide of conflicting emotions rising inside him, fear twisting into hope. If Dream finds him, he's going to drag him back to Logstedshire and he's going to make sure that Tommy will not run away again. Tommy is going to be back where he started, on that desolate beach with Dream, and he's never going to see anyone else again. 

But how much worse could it be than rotting away in this house? 

He’s still trying to process Phil’s words. Dream is going to be here, only a few meters away, Tommy is going to hear his voice, maybe even see him. His heart is fluttering in his chest. Dream is going to be _here_. 

The trapdoor opens again and this time Techno climbs into the room. He's holding a bottle of potion, but it's not one that Tommy has seen before. It's dark blue, almost black, and glimmers faintly in the lantern light. Like the night sky, or the deepest ocean. 

"What is that?" Tommy's voice is wary, he doesn't like potions in general and this one is unknown to him and also being held by Techno. He doesn't like where this is going. 

"Tommy," Phil says, and Tommy hates how his voice sounds. Sad. Apologetic. When people speak with that kind of tone, something bad is always going to happen. "We're so, so sorry for having to do this. You need to stay hidden, we can't take the risk. This way it's easier for both you and us."

Understanding strikes Tommy like a lightning. "No," he says, his voice shaking from fear and fury. "No fucking way. I'm not drinking that shit." He sits up on his bed and scrambles backwards, away from Techno. "You don't need to do that. I can stay hidden, I'll be quiet! I won't move, I swear I won't even breathe!" 

"It's barely been a week since you tried to run back to him," Techno says, and his voice is just as emotionless and monotone as always. He shakes the bottle lightly and the liquid swirls inside it. “It’s your own fault that we can’t trust you. You're going to drink this, whether you want it or not. You don't have a choice. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Tommy turns to Phil. "Please," he says, and he hates how pathetic his pleading voice sounds like in his own ears. "Don't make me drink it, Phil, please -" he realizes he has one more weapon he can use, one more chance - "please dad, don't let him do this." 

He hasn't called Phil that since the day he arrived at Techno's house. 

His father turns away from him. 

Phil can't watch, he doesn't want to see, but he can't stop himself from hearing. How his children struggle for a few seconds until Techno easily overpowers his brother, how Tommy's pleads stop as the drink is forced into his mouth, how the noises get fainter and weaker as the potion starts to take effect and Tommy slips into unconsciousness, little by little. He doesn't turn back until the room is completely silent. 

Tommy looks oddly peaceful when he's asleep. There's no trace of the usual anger and defiance on his face. Phil brushes his fingers against his cheek, tugs a stray hair behind his ear. He looks so small. Fragile. Something that needs to be protected. 

Phil isn't going to let anyone hurt Tommy ever again. Even if it means doing things that break his heart. 

Phil notices wet stains on Tommy's shirt. Apparently, he managed to spit out some of the potion during the fight. He turns to Techno, a slightly worried look on his face. "Do you think he drank enough of it?" 

Techno nods. "Trust me, he's going to be out for at least two hours." He looks uncertain, like he wants to say something but isn't sure how. "Phil," he says finally, "are you sure we're doing the right thing?" 

Phil answers without a moment of hesitation. "Yes. This is for his own good. You know Dream, you've fought him in the past. Dream would do a hell of a lot worse than this if he got Tommy back in his hands. We can't let that happen, Techno. We can't."

Techno nods again. "Well, he should be here at any minute. I'll go downstairs to greet him when he comes. You better hide Tommy before he shows up." He disappears through the trapdoor. 

Phil opens a double chest in the back of the room, picks up the sleeping boy, and gently places him inside. There are blankets on the bottom and Phil pulls another one over him. He's going to be comfortable and warm and he'll sleep peacefully through whatever happens when Dream knocks on the door. 

He takes one more look at his son and tries his best to fight back the tears that are threatening to escape his eyes. 

_I love you, Tommy. I'm so sorry._

He closes the chest. 


End file.
